


Conversation Starters

by MaiKusakabe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, I don't know what I wrote, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Poor Life Choices, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiKusakabe/pseuds/MaiKusakabe
Summary: Jango Fett has an encounter after a job on Coruscant.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 42
Kudos: 396





	1. Chapter 1

Jango blinks behind his visor, half-expecting the scene before him will change. It doesn’t. There’s a _jetii_ sprawled on the step of Dex’s back door, robes less than the perfect state _jetiise_ always wear them in and drinking straight from a bottle of the _tihaar_ Dex stores for his _mando’ad_ customers.

Just what the kriff.

The _jetii_ glances up, clearly noting his presence, before he shrugs and goes back to his bottle. That’s _not_ a standard _jetii_ reaction to a fully armored _mando’ad_. No, forget that; it’s not a standard _sentient_ reaction to a fully armored _mando’ad_.

Jango assesses the situation quickly, having developed enough of a cool head for jobs that he aborts his first reaction to shoot first and ask questions never. Something he’s grateful for a moment later, when he takes in the pieces of this strange puzzle.

There’s a _jetii_ on Dex’s doorstep; Dex makes a point of serving law enforcement subpar food so they don’t come back, and Jango knows for a fact FLO has some less than pleasant programming in place to deal with that sort of customer.

The _jetii_ is drinking _tihaar_ ; that particular _tihaar_ is illegal on _Coruscanta_ , and Dex smuggles it in with his other specialties for certain customers. Dex keeps those specialties under lock, and not the easy to pick type of lock.

There’s a plate on the step next to the _jetii_ ; it’s one of Dex’s, with an untouched nerfburger on it and more food than Jango’s ever had served to him on a single plate here.

All of that leads Jango to a single possibility; Dex has a _jetii_ friend, one he’s willing to allow to park himself behind his diner to get wasted instead of just kicking him off the place like he does with depressed drunks.

Dex has very fancy security around his place, and Jango doesn’t think a random _jetii_ ’s death is worth his association with the best information dealer around Republic space.

“Not shooting?” the _jetii_ asks, lowering the bottle.

So much for walking around to the front entrance without a word.

“Wouldn’t work,” Jango says, tilting his head pointedly towards the _‘kad_ at the _jetii_ ’s belt. Killing a _jetii_ requires a far more hands on approach.

“Would have to block for that,” the _jetii_ says with a shrug, and takes another swig.

Jango should leave, this speeder wreck has nothing to do with him, but a morbid sort of curiosity makes him stay. He hadn’t thought _jetiise_ were _capable_ of being this morose.

The _jetii_ continues to drink, and Jango watches him silently. Just because he’s not leaving doesn’t mean he has anything to say. Besides, the scene is fascinating as it is; in a moment, this _jetii_ who might or might not be past his teens has downed more _tihaar_ than half the _mando’ade_ Jango knows can withstand before passing out. A third of the bottle that was there when Jango first noticed it has disappeared.

“You sure you don’t want a shot?” the _jetii_ asks again, voice slurring the slightest bit.

“You _want_ to get shot?” Jango snaps, annoyed by the _jetii_ and his own growing fascination with the situation. He’s stumbled upon a baby _jetii_ on a depressive pity party. He’s sure someone somewhere would pay a lot of credits for a holo of this.

The _jetii_ shrugs again.

“Would be something,” he says, and goes back to emptying the bottle. At this rate, he’ll run out in under a minute. How the kark he’s drinking it so fast without his throat killing him is a mystery. Probably some _jetii osik_.

Jango’s estimate proves too generous when the _jetii_ just keeps on drinking until the bottle is empty. Jango’s throat throbs in sympathy for the abuse the _jetii’s_ inflicted on his own throat.

Jango would’ve preferred it if the _jetii_ had more to drink, or paid attention to his food, because now the _jetii_ turns to focus on him, and his eyes are disturbingly intense for someone who should be passed out over a puddle of his own vomit.

“I was sure a _haat’ad_ would take that shot.” The _jetii_ isn’t looking at his face; instead, his eyes are fixed on Jango’s pauldron.

Jango’s blood freezes. Before he can revisit his decision not to attack and demand how this _jetii_ knows what he is — _or that word_ — the _jetii_ continues.

“Want to kriff?”

Jango takes a step back. He can bargain with Hutts, hunt crazed fanatical terrorists, stand before the man who led the _jetiise_ at Galidraan without lounging for his throat when he’d understood he wouldn’t win the fight, but even Jango is overwhelmed sometimes. All it takes is being propositioned by a drunk baby _jetii_.

A pretty, drunk baby _jetii_ , sure, but his point stands.

“What?” In Jango’s defense, it’s a valid question.

“Never had the opportunity, back on _Manda’yaim_ ,” the _jetii_ says, as if that’s an explanation. He puts the empty bottle aside and stands up. “All the _Mando’ade_ in _beskar’gam_ were _Kyr’tsad_. It was a great turn off, I’ll have you know.”

Jango had come to Dex’s for a meal after a boring hunt. Now a drunk baby _jetii_ who knows some _Mando’a_ and has an idea of who to dislike is propositioning him.

“What makes you think I’m interested?” Jango asks, tone less hostile than it would’ve been if he was completely uninterested. There are few things Jango bothers to be honest with himself about, but sex is one of them: it’s been months, had been months even before the Bando Gora hunt, and this _jetii_ is ridiculously pretty. If he’s willing to spread his legs, Jango can overlook his affiliation long enough to take him up on the offer.

“Call it a feeling,” the _jetii_ says. He walks forward, slow and telegraphing his every move, and drops to his knees before Jango in a move that is too graceful for some as drunk as him.

Yeah, they’re definitely doing this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, I like being enabled.
> 
> I am overwhelmed and very happy to see the reception my little story's had. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed and read :D  
> As I am very weakminded, I've decided I will be continuing this. I don't have time to work on a fully fleshed out, 200k chaptered story, though, so I will be doing it with snippets and scenes. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Still no smut, sadly.

Obi-Wan wakes up with a pounding headache and his head resting on a warm, firm surface that is definitely not a pillow. He doesn’t even have the benefit of a blessed second of confusion or lack of awareness, the events from yesterday flooding back into his mind with a vengeance. Returning to the Temple after a two month long mission to stumble upon Qui-Gon Jinn walking Anakin Skywalker through meditation in the Room of a Thousand Fountains —Qui-Gon, out of bacta and free from the Halls of Healing, next to Anakin Skywalker sporting a stub of a Padawan braid. Obi-Wan’s presence going unacknowledged for however long he stood rooted to the spot before he had managed to force himself to walk away. Dex taking a look at him and sending him to the kitchen with a plate to eat in peace. Picking the lock on Dex’s safe to get to the good booze before stumbling outside to get wasted.

The Mando.

He’d actually given a random Mandalorian a blowjob behind Dex’s diner, then followed said Mandalorian to a hotel room even he, drunk as he had been, could tell wasn’t wherever the Mando had been staying before. It’s not Obi-Wan’s worst life choice —turns out the Mando is hot under the _buy’ce_ and a damn good lay, which is better than most of his usual hook-ups— but it likely makes the top ten.

“Are you going to hyperventilate?” the Mando’s voice breaks through his mental babble, dragging him back to the here and now. Obi-Wan holds back a wince. That’s not a phrase he can think right now. Obi-Wan is surprised the Mando speaks at a low volume; he hadn’t seemed the type willing to be considerate to a Jedi last night. On second thought, he _had_ been a very attentive partner, so maybe Obi-Wan shouldn’t be surprised he was being polite enough to speak quietly —he will still be shocked the Mando stayed the night, though.

“Just thinking,” Obi-Wan replies. He takes a deep breath, then focuses on clearing the hangover-induced headache with a level of proficiency unbecoming of a newly-knighted Jedi.

“Regretting your choices?” the Mando asks. There’s an amused undercurrent to the words, but also a challenge, like he expects Obi-Wan to break down over having slept with him now that it’s morning. Sex is perfectly fine in the Order, no matter how much the wider galaxy likes to believe Jedi are celibate.

Even if it wasn’t fine, Obi-Wan has just spent half a day failing at not resenting a nine year old for things out of said child’s control. He wouldn’t shatter over a broken vow after that. Force, he’s an awful Jedi.

“Actually,” Obi-Wan says, steady now that his head has stopped pounding, “I was wondering if you’d be up for a morning encore.”

Obi-Wan is in no mental state, nor the mood, to return to the Temple right now. Round two of great sex with a hot, very fit Mandalorian sounds like the perfect distraction.

He’s on his back a moment later, the Mando’s mouth slotted over his own and their tongues entwined. Given this is a man who had radiated a good amount of loathing at him when they first met last night, Obi-Wan takes the enthusiastic agreement as a compliment to his own skills in bed.

It’s nice to know someone appreciates one of his skillsets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jango hasn't slept. He spent the night questioning his choices and playing with Obi-Wan's mess of a half grown out Padawan haircut. He nearly left a couple times, but stayed because he already made the mistake of sleeping with a Jedi, and said Jedi gave him the best blowjob of his life while drunk, then proved himself an excellent lover. He was hoping for a round two.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not even sure what I wrote. It's 7am and I haven't slept, but this image came to mind and wouldn't leave. Sadly, the muse didn't want to cooperate with actual explicit content.  
> I have half a mind to continue this. Scene came with vague impressions of how this AU would progress.


End file.
